One of Those Nights

This is one of those nights that I dread.

I haven't had any success in coming up with an idea to write about that is even remotely interesting to me and I have pretty low standards. I thought about doing the blog about the difference between men of old and modern man. I thought that maybe just a free form babbleing would be kind of interesting. It wasn't. I thought perhaps I should write about my day, but it was a pretty uninteresting day.

I keep thinking of ideas and each one is less inspiring than the last. You don't think I have finally run out of things to day do you? That would be interesting. I kind of need to do this so I can pretend that I am being creative and keeping busy. 

Maybe I have gotten to the stage when I should just do a blog if I have something I actually want to say. Maybe I should just give it up for tonight and pick it up tomorrow.

That's what I am going to do. Talk to you tomorrow...


Just so it isn't a complete waste for you, here is a great pancake recipe that we have used for years. It is easy to halve and like I say, very tasty.

Fluffy Pancakes

2 cups flour                                                      2 eggs

2 tbsp. Sugar                                                    2 cups milk

4 tsp baking powder                                         2 tbsp butter (oil)

1 tsp salt

Add dry ingredients and blend together. Add the eggs, milk and butter (oil).

Add 1 cup of any fruit/ topping you like for a variation.

Next Years Santa Letter

Do you ever wonder if the things and events that you remember actually did happen? Normally I don’t question my memories but every now and then I am confronted by a memory that has no backup at all.

The memory I am thinking of is of a letter that I sent to my son when he was involved in Katimavik. I sent him more than a few letters and normally I wouldn’t give any of them a second thought. This particular letter was different however. This one I made with plastercine and alphabet pasta, laboriously separating all of the letters and then placing them in the plastercine forming words, sentences, paragraphs and eventually a whole letter. Yes, it took a long time but some things are worth the effort.

I figured that everyone enjoys a letter from home when they are thousands of miles away and something just a little crazy would bring a smile when smiles might be at a premium. I didn’t know at the time that he was having a great time with like-minded youths from all over the country. The letter should have brought a smile at the very least and provide a subject of conversation wondering what was wrong with Brendan’s Dad.

This all happened well over ten years ago and should be just a forgotten footnote in my life and less in Brendan’s. It should be, but a year or two ago I asked Brendan about it hoping that he would get one of those wistful smiles and told me a tale about how it came at a point when he was feeling blue and it got him over a bad time. I thought that he would have at least had a hazy memory of it anyway. It turns out that he has no memory of it at all. N o  m e m o r y   a t  a l l…

How is that possible? Now, I realize that a letter from your mom or dad has never been a high point in a young man’s life, but a letter made from alphabet pasta and plastercine isn’t an everyday occurrence. Well, not in the circles I hang out in. I suppose it is possible that the f**king Post Office lost it. BASTARDS!!! It is also possible that I just thought I sent it and the letter never got past the thinking or planning stage. It’s possible…

This kind of thing really bothers me. Now, I am going to have to go through boxes and boxes of photos hoping that I took a picture of it. I wouldn’t have been stupid enough to spend all of those hours making the thing and not take a picture of it. I wouldn’t … would I? No, there must be a picture somewhere. One picture lost in thousands of pictures. Should be a fun search.

Even if I don’t find it, I am going to make something similar so that I have something tangible to hold. What a great idea for next years Santa letter, he can’t ignore it then. Can he????